ATeam: The Day That Decker Retired
by spookysister7
Summary: Colonel Decker retired. But why? Why would a man so intent on catching the A-Team suddenly give up? Did he find something more important to do? And what, exactly, does Murdock have to do with it? Decker/OFC. Murdock/OFC.
1. Chapter 1: Vacation is for wimps

A-Team: The Day That Decker Retired

AN: This is a (slight) AU based on my previous story 'Mr. Brightside'. You don't have to read that one to understand this one.

**Chapter 1: Vacation is for Wimps**

I, Colonel Roderick Decker, am not one to mince words. I hate the A-Team. I loathe them with extreme prejudice. Worse yet… I have to respect them. It isn't that I think they are better than me, no sir, but they have luck on their side. And, with everything else that's against them, they need it. I know they aren't guilty of the crime they're accused of. No one could be guilty of that and still help out as many people as they do. But it isn't my place to say whether they are guilty or not. No, it is my job to catch them. A job they make extremely difficult.

That is why I am following Captain Murdock and his girlfriend around during my vacation time.

Vacation. Ha. Who needs a vacation? If it wasn't for the brass shoving me off base with orders to 'get a life', I wouldn't be alone right now. Instead, I'd have Crane and the rest of my men stationed all along the roads leading in and out of this Podunk burg, waiting for the rest of the A-Team to show up. It doesn't matter how many times they tell me Murdock has no ties with the rest of the team, I know, I KNOW, that the pilot is in cahoots with Smith and his men. When I'd gotten word that Murdock's new girlfriend, some kind of mental health professional, had gotten him out of the VA and moved in with her, well, it had just been fate. She lived out in the boonies, and they'd have to come to this town for supplies eventually. And then I'd have them. All of them.

Of course, I don't expect to take them all on by my lonesome. But when I have them all in one place I'll call in the cavalry. So far, all I'd seen was the Captain's apparent fascination with all things shiny, and his girlfriend's- one Angie Barnes- fascination with him. Well, there was no accounting for taste. She seemed like a pretty sort. On the small side with blazing red hair and a matching pale complexion, she clung to the Captain's arm with the sort of tenacity that only lots of money or love could buy. And the Captain certainly wasn't loaded.

With a huff or frustration, I followed them back to the hacienda, the rest of the A-Team nowhere in sight. Hours later as the house fell dark I called it quits and started to climb down from my perch in a tree just outside Ms. Barnes' property line. A rustle of movement froze me in my tracks, still concealed within the leafy branches of the old oak.

With rising excitement, I watched the three black-clothed figures creep around to the back door. I swung the huge mobile phone off my shoulder and prepared to dial for backup. Then I frowned. The three figures were picking the lock on the back door. But if they were Captain Murdock's friends, wouldn't he give them a key? Or, at the very least, couldn't they just knock on the front door?

The cloud that had obscured the moon broke away and I saw the outline of an Uzi strapped across on of the intruder's backs. And then they were inside. Calling quickly for backup, I scrambled out of the tree and pulled my weapon. I froze. Should I go in after them?

A female scream from inside the house had me moving before I could weigh the ramifications. Their bedroom was upstairs in the corner. There was an overhang I could climb up on that would give me the advantage of surprise, at least. Tucking my pistol back in its holster, I used the lattice, covered in honeysuckle, to ascend to the second floor.

When I reached the overhang, I crept over to the window and looked in.

Two masked men had Captain Murdock in their grip. He was fighting them, clad only in his boxers, trying to get away despite the obvious difference in size. The third man, a woman actually, now that I saw her in full light, had tied the Captain's girlfriend to the headboard. Ms. Barnes had apparently fought them as well, a thin trickle of blood working its way down her temple as she fought weakly against the restraints.

"Let her go!" Captain Murdock demanded, still struggling, "She's got nothing to do with this!"

One of the men raised his gun and my stomach clenched, but he just hit the Captain with the butt of the weapon. Murdock fell unconscious, his head lolling limply as one of the intruders tied his hands behind his back while the other held him upright.

"Kill her and get rid of the evidence. Then get out of here," the smaller masked man ordered the woman, gesturing towards Ms. Barnes. The woman nodded shortly.

Even as the men dragged the Captain from the room, I moved. The window was unlocked and the last intruder had her back to me now, approaching the bed. The moment the men were out the door, I threw the window open and dove towards her, knocking her off her feet and away from her victim.

She rolled with the unexpected tackle, showing her training, and squirmed out from under me before I could tighten my grip. Thankfully I got ahold of her weapon, aiming it at her from my position by the bed.

Ms. Barnes mumbled, but I couldn't afford to check on her now.

"Freeze!" I croaked as the woman stood and went for something in her pocket. She kept moving so I shot her, hitting her high on her left thigh. She fell to the ground, her hand releasing what she'd been going for. A grenade.

The explosive rolled away from us, down the hall, as we scrambled for cover. I jumped towards the bed, grabbing the edge of the mattress as I leapt and pulling it up and over myself and Ms. Barnes. I had just enough time to curl my feet under when the grenade exploded.

The sound alone was enough to send me reeling, and I could feel shrapnel hitting the mattress. I prayed none would make it through. Finally, the roaring of the explosion was replaced by ringing in my ears and a peculiar crackling noise. Throwing the mattress off my back, I quickly jumped to my feet, the woman's rifle still in my hands.

I lowered the gun as I spotted her body on the floor, a large shard of wood neatly impaling her. The black material of her outfit had melted into her skin and was even now being licked by the fire that had already consumed what was left of the hallway.

I turned back to Ms. Barnes, my stomach sinking as I looked her over. She was unconscious, and I was grateful for it because the burns to her right leg looked excruciatingly painful. Apparently my heroics with the mattress had fallen a little short of the mark. Thankfully, everything else had been covered, so she was still alive.

Swinging the weapon across my left shoulder, I leaned over her to untie her hands from the headboard. Looking down, I froze.

It couldn't be.

Angelique Williams, the woman I'd nearly let get… hurt… in my pursuit of the A-Team. The woman they'd left behind to suffer when their enemies came looking. The woman for whom I'd broken a headboard the last time she was restrained.

She was Angie Barnes, Captain Murdock's girlfriend?

One of the few things I'd felt guilty for in my lifetime was this woman. I'd used her as bait, unsuccessfully, and she'd nearly paid the ultimate price.

But if they had abandoned her then, why was she with them now? At least, with one of them? And why had she gotten him out of the VA?

So many questions but so little time. The house was already protesting its misuse, boards creaking ominously as the flames and heat grew closer.

I untied her and hefted her over my shoulder. No time for finesse now; I had to have one hand free to climb down the latticework and hopefully get out of the house without the kidnappers noticing.

I made it safely out of the house and ran across the grassy lot to cover- under the trailing limbs of a weeping willow. Tucked behind the waving greenery, I could just make out the two kidnappers as they dragged a bound but screaming and hysterical Captain Murdock towards a waiting chopper.

"Angie! Angie, no!" I heard him scream as the crackling flames devoured the house, "Let me get her out, please!" he begged, twisting in their grip, his brown eyes wide and frantic.

"Shut up!" one of the men snapped, hitting him upside the head and making the Captain go limp for a moment, "She's already dead. We killed her before the fire ever started!"

"No," I saw him say, his voice negligible as he shook his head in denial, "No," he said again, louder, tears rolling down his face even as he sank to his knees. He hunched forward in their arms, a dead weight.

Suddenly he leapt to his feet and turned on them, his hands still bound behind his back.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed, his voice cracking, "I'll kill you all!" He fought them even as they wrestled him to the ground. When they had him pinned, he did something still more disturbing.

He laughed.

It wasn't a laugh of pleasure or even hopelessness. It was maniacal. Manic. Insane. It was a laugh that sent shivers down my spine and reminded me that the Captain belonged in the psycho ward of the VA.

As I watched them shove the still-giggling man into the back of the helicopter I shook my head.

They had no idea what they were getting into. For just a moment, I pitied them.


	2. Chapter 2: Ashes to ashes

**Chapter 2: Ashes to ashes**

By the time back-up finally approached, the house was nearly burnt to the ground. A fire truck and ambulance accompanied them, the sirens wailing in the heavy silence of the night. The soft glow of the fire and the flashing lights of the approaching emergency vehicles gave me enough illumination to check on Ms. Barnes' wounded leg.

"Colonel Decker?" the local sheriff asked warily, his gun half-raised, as I pushed aside the waving fronds of the willow and stepped into view.

"Stand down, Sheriff," I said gruffly, "I've got a wounded civilian who needs medical help and the intruders are long gone."

He lowered his weapon and gestured over at the waiting EMTs.

I debriefed the sheriff on the situation as the EMTs loaded Ms. Barnes into the back of the ambulance.

After filling in the local LEOs it was nearly dawn, the house nothing but a pile of ashes and embers.

With legs that felt like lead, I trekked back to my jeep and drove towards the town, intending to bed down at the motel. Instead, I found myself turning into the town's small hospital. Making my way back to the emergency ward and ignoring the nurse's wrinkled nose and disapproving look at my appearance, I stood at Ms. Barnes' bedside.

The doctors had been busy. Skin grafts covered the burns on her legs, oozing blood and pus into the thick gauze pads. According to her chart, she was running a fever. Worse yet, I'd been wrong.

The shrapnel hadn't missed her completely.

There were mentions of muscle and deep tissue damage. I didn't speak much medical-ese, but I'd picked up enough from Vietnam to know bad when I read it.

If she was a soldier, she'd be medically discharged.

Again, the unfamiliar pang of guilt rose up in me.

If only I'd been faster. If only I'd had time to make sure the mattress covered her all the way. If only I hadn't allowed the intruders to break in. If only I'd warned them. Maybe this would have all ended differently. Maybe they'd have gotten away safely.

But I hadn't and now Captain Murdock had been carted off to who knows where and Ms. Barnes… Ms. Williams…

She'd be crippled for life. And it was all my fault.

"Colonel Decker?"

I started and had my hand on my weapon before I realized who'd spoken. Consciously lowering my hand and softening my voice, I replied.

"Ms. Williams," I said, moving closer.

"Don't," she coughed, shutting her eyes for a moment, "Don't call me that, please. Where… where am I?" she asked, blinking around at the stark white room.

"You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

"I… We were attacked. Three people…" her eyes went wide and she grabbed my hand. I caught myself before I yanked out of her tight grasp. She had quite a grip for someone so petit.

"Murdock!" she asked, "Where is he? Is he okay? Did he get hurt too?"

The rapid beeping of the machines beside her bed would have nurses barging in any moment, but how did I tell her he had been captured without sending her further into panic? Her grip tightened and I sighed. Best just to come out with it.

"He was taken, but he was unharmed," I said bluntly.

Surprisingly, she relaxed a bit. Before I could decipher what she was thinking, however, a white-coated figure bustled in and gave me a stern scowl.

"No visitors in the burn ward!" the large woman snapped, gesturing impatiently towards the door.

I frowned but moved away. Ms. Barnes, however, wouldn't release my hand. Turning back towards her, I cocked my head.

"They'll rescue him," she said softly, her eyes drooping even as she gave me a small smile, "They'll always come for him."

I didn't bother to ask who 'they' were. The A-Team wouldn't leave one of their own.

As I stood in the hospital hallway, smelling of soot and smoke, I wondered if anyone would have come for me.

-000-

You'd think I'd have been tired enough to rinse off the grime and fall into bed, but you'd be wrong.

I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed until the sun warmed the tiny motel room to stifling temperatures. When I felt like I was lying in a sweat box, I finally rose and threw on some clean clothes. I know everyone thought I lived in the uniform, but I did own a couple pairs of jeans and even the occasional T-shirt. Not that I was going to compete with Captain Murdock in the odd-ball T-shirt collection. Most of mine were ones I'd gotten free at staff meetings and conferences.

I called in to see if they'd had any news about Murdock's whereabouts or A-Team sightings. Nothing. Not that I had expected any news so soon, but if I was going to visit Ms. Barnes, I wanted to…

I stopped halfway out the door. Why was I going to see Ms. Barnes? She knew lass than I did about what happened last night, and I knew she'd say nothing to me about the A-Team.

I decided to get some food. Maybe that's why I wasn't thinking clearly.

The diner next to the hospital served quick, hot food. I sat in the back, allowing me to keep an eye on who was coming in and out. I may have been off-duty, but that didn't matter much when psychos lurked around every corner.

The low drone of the TV on the counter caught my attention.

"Fire at local home leaves one dead and one missing," the newscaster said, standing outside the remains of Ms. Barnes' house, "A fire late last night has claimed at least one victim, Ms. Angie Barnes, psychotherapist. Her boyfriend, who was presumed to be with her at the time of the fire, is still missing."

I stood, glaring at the TV. How could they be so incompetent?

I watched as they showed footage of the firefighters removing a body bag from the wreckage and I shook my head.

Fool sheriff couldn't tell the bad guy from the victim! What was he going to do next, accuse Ms. Barnes of breaking into her own house and setting the fire? Or didn't he bother letting the press know it was a home invasion?

I pursed my lips, frowning. Captain Murdock already thought she was dead. If he saw this… It would just solidify his kidnapper's claims. But… if the kidnappers thought she was dead, they wouldn't come after her.

My eyes widened and I threw a few bucks on the table as I sprinted out of the diner.

I hadn't even thought of that! If they knew she survived, they might come after her. To kill her or use her against the Captain, I didn't know which, but either one was unacceptable. The TV program would buy me some time, but if they had any smarts at all they'd check the local hospitals and find her in a heartbeat.

She had to disappear. They had to think she was dead. It was the only way to keep her safe.

-000-

It was surprisingly easy to get rid of the paperwork. No wonder Peck had no problem pulling cons. All I had to do was mention national security and the nurses were falling over themselves to help me. The doctor warned that the burns on her leg would have to be kept sterile and gave me the necessary patient history for the next doctor.

I'd set up to have her transferred to a hospital an hour north. A nice, quiet little place with good security, just off the army base. They had no problem accepting a Jane Doe under the protection of a full-bird Colonel.

And now it was time to explain the situation to her.

"Colonel Decker, you're back!" Ms. Barnes said, smiling tightly, "Any news?"

I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair nervously. I never was good at talking to women, especially talking sense into them.

"No news about Captain Murdock," I said, "but there is something important I need to discuss with you."

"Oh?" she asked, her voice cautious.

"I… You… You're dead," I said, wincing as I scrambled to clarify, "I mean, the intruders think you're dead. And they have to keep thinking it. I know you won't like it, but for your safety I'm having you moved to a more secure facility and all record of you having been here is being erased."

"I see," she said quietly, her dark eyes meeting mine with a steely quality, "So, once again, I cease to exist."

I sighed. Of course I knew her history. Knew how her stepfather had kept her prisoner. Knew how she'd changed her name and moved far away to avoid any connection to the person she was.

"It's for your safety," I repeated, pleading with her to understand. I'd move her, with or without her approval, but I'd prefer not to force her.

"Alright," she said softly, looking down. I nodded in relief.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3: Dust to dust

**Chapter 3: Dust to dust**

They wheeled her out to the awaiting ambulance. I followed it all the way to the clinic, keeping an eye out for any signs of pursuit.

Once they got her situated in a room I decided to let her be. She was exhausted and in pain from the long car ride, and that now habitual guilty ache resurfaced.

Why did she always make me feel so guilty, without ever even saying a word?

"Colonel Decker?" she called just as I was about to step out of her room.

"Yes?" I growled without turning around, impatient to get away from her and the feelings she engendered.

"Will you come back?" she asked softly, surprising me.

I turned and looked down at her; small and fragile-looking beneath the white sheets.

"Later, I mean. I just…" she looked down, picking at the edge of her blanket.

"Do you want me to?" I asked, knowing full well I'd be back no matter how she answered.

She nodded.

"I don't like being alone," she murmured, glancing up to see my reaction.

"I'll be here," I said simply, quickly spinning one of the visitor's chairs to face the other and sitting down, my feet propped up.

"You don't…" she started, sitting up to look at me before falling back with a wince.

"Rest," I ordered, tipping down the brim of my hat to shade my eyes, "I'm fine."

There was long silence and I thought she'd finally decided to sleep.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I pretended not to hear.

-000-

The next couple of days passed quickly and quietly. Mostly she slept and I sat with a radio in my ear, listening for updates on Captain Murdock or the A-Team.

Finally, on day three, there was news. Unfortunately, it came second-hand, through the capture of two wanted terrorists. They were dropped off at the downtown L.A. constable's office, tied and gagged, with a note pinned to their shirts that read 'This is what happens when you mess with the A-Team'. They were both badly beaten but alive.

No one had seen who had dropped them off, though there were reports of a black van with red detailing in the area.

There was also an explosion at a paper processing plant and arrests made for criminal violations of safety and health regulations, including two deaths, that had a very powerful crime kingpin in the hot seat.

There was no way to know if Captain Murdock had been successfully rescued, though I doubted if the men would still be alive if he hadn't been. I wondered at their restraint when they thought Ms. Barnes had been killed by those men. Maybe they hadn't known before they dropped them off. Or maybe she wasn't as important to them as I'd thought.

At least now she could come out of hiding. If the A-Team had successfully wiped out the people threatening her, she could rebuild.

I stood outside her door, watching her sleep. Yesterday had been hard for her. The doctors had told her of their prognosis of her injuries and she hadn't taken it very well.

Oh, she hadn't broken out in tears or anything, just that same expression of calm acceptance, but I'd figured out how to read her now. Much like me, she didn't like to show weakness in front of strangers.

Which made her asking me to stay even odder.

She'd need extensive physical therapy to even have a chance of walking again. Even with that, she would probably never be able to walk or run normally. To make it worse, the burnt skin had to be allowed to heal completely before it could be stretched, which meant she couldn't move her leg at all until then. Between the shrapnel damage and the burn, she wouldn't be on her feet without assistance for months, at best.

I should tell her now. Tell her the intruders had been arrested, in all likelihood her boyfriend had been rescued, and she could come out of hiding and resume her life… to some extent.

I didn't want to.

The moment she left these doors and returned to the real world I'd be out of her life. It was nice to be needed instead of feared, even if all she needed me for was to keep from being alone. Hell, I'd take that in a heartbeat.

There was a reason, besides my wounded pride, that I was always pursuing that team.

Jealousy. There, I admitted it, at least to myself. They were a team. A family. I was alone.

That's why I had so much time to devote to their case. I had nothing and no one else.

Believe it or not, I wasn't always the harsh, gruff man I am now. I could remember a time when I had friends and family. When I thought about marriage and children.

Before the war.

War changes a man. In the A-Team's case, it took a bunch of misfits and made them better.

In my case, it just made me hard.

But hard kept me alive, allowed me to make the difficult decisions, even when those around me disagreed.

And hard would get me through this, too.

Standing at attention, I resolutely strode into her room, my boots clicking loudly.

"Colonel Decker," Ms. Barnes greeted with a small smile.

"Ms. Barnes," I said coolly, "You are free to resume your life. The intruders have been arrested and, I'm sure, Captain Murdock has been rescued."

"He's okay?" she asked, sitting up despite the pain it must have caused.

I pulled the pillow down behind her back to make it easier for her and then answered her question.

"No one has actually seen Captain Murdock, but the A-Team dropped the intruders off for the authorities and no one matching his description has turned up in any hospital, so I'm certain he's fine."

When had I gone from making a report to reassuring her? What happened to hard?

She nodded, frowning.

"You're right," she said quietly, leaning back with a thankful glance, "They found him. He'll be okay now."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing at all.

Finally, after watching her stare at the wall for a few minutes, I had to speak.

"So, we'll be taking you home tomorrow."

She sighed and then looked up at me.

"Home?" she asked, and I was surprised by the listless note in her voice.

"Yes," I nodded, "I'm sure your insurance will reimburse you for hotel accommodations once you are released from the hospital. You'll be able to rebuild in no time," I said positively, watching her empty gaze return to the wall with a sinking feeling.

I know what she was thinking about. Him. Captain Murdock.

"I'm sure he'll come back when he finds out you're alive," I offered, watching her carefully.

She nodded and bit her lip. When she looked up at me, I could see her eyes glistening with tears.

"Can I stay dead?" she asked softly.

"W-What?" I stuttered, brow furrowing, "Don't you want to…"

"No," she said, cutting me off, "You're right. He'd come back for me, even like I am. But…" her voice dropped, "I don't want him to. I'd just hold him back. He's got enough problems of his own. He doesn't need me to add to them."

"I don't understand," I said simply, lost.

She glared at me, her fist clenching around the sheets.

"Of course you do," she said acerbically, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? The great A-Team, brought down because they were dragging a cripple around with them. Would make it real easy for you to catch them then, wouldn't it?"

"I wouldn't…" I started to say, and then I stopped. Would I? Given the opportunity, wouldn't I jump at the chance to catch them? After all, I hadn't hesitated when one of them was wounded. Why would I stop now?

She laughed, and empty, hollow sound without warmth or humor.

"See? Even now, you know you would. It is better that I'm dead. Better for everyone."

"Better for you?" I asked, my voice hard, "Better to be alone, like you hate?"

Her eyes flashed.

"Better than being with you!" she snapped.

I stopped breathing. With a sharp nod, I turned and strode out of the room.

I didn't look back.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4: Last Rites

**Chapter 4: Last Rites**

I came back.

It was late now, and, once again, I'd spent hours staring up at my ceiling before calling it quits.

She was asleep.

I don't know what kept drawing me back to her. No longer a sense of guilt, well, not entirely. Not even a twisted sort of affection. She'd managed to douse whatever flame had been spuriously flickering with only five words. No. Now I stood over her bed thinking as clearly as I ever had.

I should use her. I'd done it once, but my timing had been off. Not this time. This time I knew they'd come for her. And I'd have them. I'd made up my mind. Besides, she had no right to refuse going back to her life. She was no longer in danger and I had no reason to keep up the somewhat difficult effort to hide who she was. While being a Jane Doe in an Army-affiliated hospital was fine for a while, eventually she'd be released and then the inevitable questions would come. Questions of identity and insurance, validity and veracity.

What right did she have to ask me to help her disappear?

She shifted in her sleep, her hand sliding off the bed and dangling awkwardly mid-air.

With a sigh, I gently tucked it back against her side, my rough fingers catching against the raised scarring on her wrist. I knelt in the dim light, my eyes squinting to make out the damage.

These were new scars. Newer. Old scars traced around her wrists like spider webs, white and long healed. Familiar scars from prisoners I'd released, prisoners I'd held, long ago. Overlapping them were pink scars, straight and sharp against her pale peach skin.

My finger traced the line, neatly positioned at the base of her palm where a network of light blue veins throbbed beneath my finger.

"I didn't try to kill myself," she said softly, making my head jerk up in surprise, my fingers still touching her wrist, "But everyone who sees them thinks I did."

I frowned but didn't move.

Her eyes met mine, large and dark and sad. All the posturing was gone, the hard shell that laid like a mask across her face, and I knew I was getting to see something that very few had seen before.

I nodded, my fingers moving, brushing, stroking the puckered flesh.

"I know," I said, my deep voice grating against the softly spoken words.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean it; what I said."

"I know," I said again, nodding, knowing she was telling the truth now; all anger gone from her eyes.

"I understand," she continued, "You're doing your duty. I won't ask again."

I looked away from the frank, sorrowful gaze.

"I'll figure it out," she said, barely audible.

I looked back up at her, my heart skipping a beat as I recognized the tone, the words, I'd heard long ago. Before she'd ever been born.

The day before my mother had killed herself.

I stood, backing away from the bed, my hands shaking.

She gave me a small smile and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

I ran out of the hospital, out into the darkness, not stopping until I reached the safety of my hotel room and fell on my knees by the bed.

"Oh, God, please, not again. Not again," I prayed, all form and precedence fleeing from my mind as I implored one I'd not spoken to in a long, long time.

Let me save her. Just this one. Just this once. I hadn't been able to save my mother, or my father afterwards, but I had the power to save her. I know I did.

But what would I have to give in exchange?

-000-

"Good morning, Colonel Decker," Ms. Barnes said quietly, not quite meeting my eyes.

"I'll help you," I said quickly, "I'll help you to stay dead. You can stay here until you're released and then I'll get you the necessary documentation to continue your life under a different name."

She met my eyes, surprised and a bit afraid.

"What do you want in return?" she asked after a long silence.

"Tell me what you know about the A-Team."

Her eyes grew hard and her lips pursed.

"No," she said quickly, "Never."

I chuckled dryly.

"Well, it was worth a shot," I said, twitching a smile.

Her eyebrow rose and she looked at me, puzzled by my reaction.

I sat down in the chair next to her and shook my head.

"I owe you, remember?" I asked quietly, "I'm just paying my debt."

"I thought you did that when you rescued me from the people breaking into my house," Ms. Barnes replied, looking at me doubtfully.

I shrugged, looking away before she could read the real reason in my eyes.

"Thank you," she said finally, touching my shoulder.

Without looking up, I patted her hand and nodded.

-000-

It was a week later when she was finally released. She still wasn't allowed to move her leg, so a special brace was attached to the wheelchair.

I'd spent most of my off time in her room, chatting about nothing. I wasn't much of a talker and neither was she, years of solitude accustoming us to silence. So our chatting consisted of brief moments of interaction followed by long periods of quiet.

But that was fine with us. Our silences, unlike most, were not uncomfortable. She also didn't demand I pay strict attention to her, which was a relief from other women I'd been around. I could read or fill out paperwork when I was with her without insulting her. The only thing I couldn't do was mention the A-Team.

After the doctor had set a release date and informed us that she couldn't be left to fend for herself, obviously, I'd managed to talk her into staying with me at my house off-base.

"I'll spend most of my time with you anyway," I'd said casually, "Might as well be comfortable."

Her embarrassed flush gave way to a hesitant nod.

I'd thought everything was fine until I'd stopped by earlier than usual and found her quietly crying.

"What's wrong?" I'd asked, dropping my bag of takeout and kneeling by her bedside.

She'd flinched away when I went to brush her hair out of her eyes and I suppressed a flinch of my own, my hand falling to my side.

"Nothing. I'm fine," she'd said quickly, wiping at her tears.

I'd frowned, shaking my head.

"Tell me," I'd ordered, my voice gentle despite the command.

"I'm scared," she'd said, her voice small, "I'm scared of being alone with you. In your house."

My eyes had closed, involuntarily thinking back to the terrified young woman I'd rescued from those scumbags. Terrified beyond reasoning, flashing back to things I had no concept of, things even Vietnam hadn't shown me.

"I won't hurt you," I'd said, at last opening my eyes, "I don't know how I can prove it to you, but I swear; I won't hurt you."

She'd nodded and given me a tiny smile.

"Okay."

And now we were on our way. She was propped up in the back seat of my Jeep, her leg carefully situated. She was nearly grey with pain and I tried to drive as carefully as I could, the wheelchair wedged into the seat next to me.

By the time I got her inside and into the guest bed, she was in tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I muttered my mantra nearly subaudibly, wishing I could do more than offer platitudes and a handful of pills.

After gulping down the pain medication and a dry piece of toast she fell soundly asleep and I at last relaxed.

It was going to be harder than I'd thought, sharing my home. But she needed my help and this was what I'd asked for; another chance.

I wasn't going to screw it up this time.

TBC


End file.
